


i wanna be (forever young)

by takesmeunder



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, not sure if that's worth a tag but in case needles make you squirm, there's a tattoo that happens on screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:30:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takesmeunder/pseuds/takesmeunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s fitting really, that their last performance as a group is on the x-Factor stage where it all began eight years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna be (forever young)

It’s fitting really, that their last performance as a group is on the x-Factor stage where it all began eight years ago. Seven albums, six world tours, and dozens of number one hits later, today is the last day the five of them can say they’re in a band called One Direction.

They sing three songs, finishing their legacy with the one that started it all, What Makes You Beautiful. Niall’s glancing out into the audience as he’s pulled into their final group hug, and he doesn’t see a single dry eye in the house.

Niall can feel Harry’s hand moving underneath his shirt, thumb sliding along his ribs while they stay pressed together. He still can’t believe this is the last time he’ll perform with these four lads. Four boys who have become closer to him than even his blood family. Sticking together for eight years and fighting the odds even after people said they should have been done after their fifth album came out.

If he’s being completely honest, he hadn't thought they would be renewed after that fifth album. Didn’t think everyone in the band would agree to another contract when they were so incredible tired of the constant touring, the press and the invasion on their personal lives.

But as usual, his boys surprised him. All of them agreeing to sign on for another two albums with some conditions. Harry’s being that he wanted to be able to come out as bisexual, something he’d been banned from doing for the first five years they were signed, even though millions of fans suspected it to be the truth.

Two years later and they knew they were done. The five of them were well into their twenties, and there was much talk among them about starting families. They were at that age, and it had been agreed that they wanted to bow out on their own terms instead of having it forced on them. They’d had a good run.

They break up the group hug and the spotlight shines on Niall as he steps forward. They’d all agreed he should be the one to say their final words.

“Good evening, Wembley!” Niall starts, and he can already feel the stinging behind his eyelids. “First of all, I just wanted to say good luck to the final two contestants. You are both amazing artists, and regardless of who wins, you both have big careers ahead of you in this industry.”

The audience politely claps and cheers, and when Niall starts speaking again the entire stadium quiets down. Niall doesn't think he’s ever heard an audience this quiet before.

“Eight years ago, the five of us auditioned for this show as solo artists. Uncle Simon decided to put us together as a group, and here we are now. If you had asked us that first day what we thought would happen, none of us would have said anything remotely close to this monster that we've created together,” Niall pauses as the stadium screams for him, for them, and he lets it happen before he starts again.

“Today, we sung as One Direction for the last time. Without our fans, we never would have made it as far as we did, so those of you that are here for us, and have been here for us these past eight years, this is a massive thank you to everything you've done for us. We love every single one of you, and please know that we’ll always be your boys,” Niall voice cracks and within seconds he knows it’s Harry’s arm wrapped around his waist, whispering things into his ear as his eyes fill with tears.

The lights drop off and the stadium is plunged into darkness. Niall lets himself be shepherded back stage. His chest feels tight and he sucks in a shaky breath, pulls Harry a little closer when they reach their dressing room.

People are clapping him on the back, telling him he’s done a great job and that the whole stadium is crying their eyes out. Even the ones that didn’t come to see them.

“Harry,” Niall breathes out. “There’s something I need to do.”

“Anything,’ Harry says, rubbing circles into Niall’s back with his hand. “Whatever you want. Well, within reason, of course.”

Niall bursts out with a breathless laugh before he can stop himself, and Harry holds him a little tighter. “Thanks, Haz.”

* * *

“No,” Harry gasps, looking over at the tattoo parlour. “Niall, you can’t tease me like this.”

Niall puts the car in park and takes a deep breath. “It’s been eight years, reckon it’s time I got that screw tattoo on my foot.”

“But,” starts Harry, reaching over to grabs Niall’s hand. “Now? After it’s all over?”

“Kind of the point, isn't it?” replies Niall as he opens the car door. “Best eight years of my life. Think I should get something to commemorate that.”

Harry pulls a face as they walk towards the parlour together. “Commemorate? Did you eat a dictionary while I was still in bed?”

Niall grins and reaches over to shove at Harry’s arm. “Fuck off.”

Kevin’s waiting for them when they get inside, and Niall’s quick to bring him into a hug. “You okay, mate?”

“I'm fine,” Kevin says, pulling. “You lot have had quite the emotional few days. Which I imagine is what’s brought you here.”

Niall nods and points at Harry’s foot. “Time to put a mark on this blank canvas.”

It doesn't hurt like Niall thought it would all these years. It’s more of an annoying stinging sensation as the needles move along his skin. He’s never been a fan of any kind of pain, not since he got his knee fixed and was on painkillers for a few weeks.

“Alright, Nialler?” Harry asks, squeezing Niall’s hand.

Niall squeezes back and smiles. “Never better.”

After Kevin’s got it all wrapped up and given him an after care package, Niall feels the buzz of adrenaline in his bones and the need to do _something_.

“Hey Hazza, take us home?” asks Niall, tossing over the keys. He doesn't feel drunk, but he does feel a little twitchy and doesn't want to test it out behind the wheel.

Harry smiles at him knowingly as he puts the key in the ignition. “Nice feeling, isn't it? The bigger they are, the better you feel afterwards. It’s why I’ve got so many.”

Niall taps his bandaged foot to the beat of the song on the radio as he stares out the window. “I feel antsy, like I have to move. Not sure I like it, if I'm being honest.”

Harry’s hand comes over to rest on his thigh, fingers digging in slightly before beginning to slide up the seam of his shorts. “Think I might have an idea that could help you out with that.”

“Jesus,” says Niall. “Keep your hands on the wheel.”

Harry doesn't look the least bit shameful, instead cupping Niall’s dick through his pants before withdrawing his hand. “Much rather keep my hands on you,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Harry Edward Styles, you are the absolute worst,” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Take me home at once.”

* * *

Harry takes him home, back to _their_  home. The tabloids had had a field day when it was revealed they were living together. While Niall had never ‘come out’ like Harry had, it had just sort of been assumed that he wasn’t straight. Niall had remained quiet about it when asked, citing that it was no one’s business but his own. What did it matter who he was putting his dick in? It didn’t change anything about him as a person.

To put it bluntly, Harry’s the one he’s been putting his dick in for nearly five years now. They've been seen out and about together, holding each other up leaving bars and generally causing media curiosity, but they've never confirmed or denied anything. Niall prefers things that way.

By the time Harry pushes open the door to their condo, Niall’s so restless that he grabs Harry by the front of his shirt and pins him against the nearest wall.

“I want…,” Niall pauses, trying to figure out exactly _what_  it is he wants here.

Harry grasps Niall’s fists in his hands and drags them away from his shirt. “I want to blow you. But I want you to sit down. Let’s get to the couch, yeah?”

Niall lets himself be guided to the couch, entirely too aware of the fact that he’s been being guided places by Harry a lot these past couple days. He sits down on the sofa and within seconds Harry has dropped to his knees and is nuzzling into the space between Niall’s legs.

“Jesus,” Niall says in wonder, watching as Harry undoes his belt buckle and pops the button on his jeans. It never gets old, watching Harry get turned on just by the very idea of sucking his cock. “I love your mouth.”

Harry smiles as he pulls Niall’s dick out of his jeans and gives it a few pumps, and then without any warning he’s wrapping his lips around the head and dropping his mouth down.

Niall tries not to fuck his hips up into the wet heat of Harry’s mouth, but it’s so _good_ , and the fact that he knows Harry can take it, enjoys it even, makes him put a lot less effort into restraining himself.

As expected, Harry’s hands slide around to pull Niall’s arse forward, looking up at Niall with dark eyes, and Niall will never get over how much Harry loves getting his throat fucked. Niall digs his hand into the top of Harry’s mop of curls, forcing Harry’s head down on his dick. He thinks about the first time they went all out like this, the day before a stadium show in Manchester, and how Harry was so hoarse the next day that Niall had to sing his parts in You & I. After the show, Harry had beat him, or rather, tried to.

Harry swirls his tongue over the head of Niall’s cock, snapping him out of the past and bringing him abruptly back to the present. Niall can feel the heat building in the pit of his stomach and the tension coiling at the base of his spine, and as much as he loves coming across Harry’s tongue, that’s not what he wants today.

Niall grips Harry’s hair and pulls him off his dick with a wet slurping noise, and Harry makes a disgruntled noise before he stands up and shoves his trousers down his thighs before climbing into Niall’s lap.

“Wanted to taste you,” Harry says breathlessly, wasting no time in getting their cocks lined up and wrapping a hand around them both. “God, Niall. Watching you get that tattoo made me so hard.”

Niall grins, can’t help it really. Whenever Harry gets a new tattoo, (Niall is surprised he hasn’t run out of space yet), he comes home feeling extra frisking and nine times out of ten, will ride Niall into the mattress. “Didn’t get it for you, babe. You’re the one thing in this entire world that I’ll never need to remember.”

“ _Niall,_ ” whines Harry, stroking them faster and moving his hips like he’s riding Niall’s cock. “Oh god.”

“Kiss me,” begs Niall, mouth moving across Harry’s jaw line before Harry pulls back enough to connect their lips. They’re both too close to do much more than pant against each other’s mouths, but Niall enjoys it anyway. “Love you so much, Hazza. Gonna marry you one day, make a proper man out of you.”

Harry’s hips buck up and then he’s coming messily between their bodies and all over Niall’s shirt, but Niall’s too shocked to care. “You like that then? The idea of being my husband?”

“God, Niall. I’ve wanted to spend my life with you since I saw you at boot camp 8 and a half years ago,” admits Harry, thumbing over the head of Niall’s cock. “Harry Horan-Styles. It’s a bit long, but I think I could make do.”

It’s that that makes Niall come, the idea of Harry taking on his last name. He curls in on himself, mouthing along Harry’s collar bone as Harry milks his orgasm out of him. Niall watches as Harry brings his hand that’s got Niall’s come on it to his mouth, tongue slipping between his fingers before he sucks them into mouth.

“Haz,” Niall chokes, his cock giving a useless kick where it’s limp against his thigh.

Harry leans forward and kisses Niall messily on the mouth, and Niall sucks on his tongue greedily to make Harry moan. “Told you I wanted to taste you tonight, Nialler.”

“Christ,” says Niall as Harry drops onto the couch beside him and curls up. Niall tucks his dick back into his trousers.

“The lads are going to be mad that you didn’t invite them. To get the tattoo I mean. Not join in on the sex,” Harry explains quickly. “I mean, they were all down once or twice years ago, but I don’t think they’d be interested now.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Think we’re a bit old for gay orgies involving ex band mates now. Although, there was that one time…”

Harry clamps a hand over Niall’s mouth and giggles. “Leave the past in the past, Niall. But are you going to tell them about your tattoo?”

Niall glances down at his foot and then shrugs. “Maybe instagram it once it’s healed up a bit. You’re the only one who really needs to know, and you know. So, I’m set.”

Harry snuggles in closer and grabs Niall’s hand to thread their fingers together. “Nialler, did you mean what you said? Like, about us getting married one day?”

“Of course,” answers Niall, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “There’s no one else I’d rather see in a wedding dress.”

Harry punches him in the arm. “Arsehole.”

“Love you though,” Niall says and kisses Harry’s forehead.

“Love you too, I suppose,” Harry replies as he reaches forward and flicks on the television.

For the first time since the lights dimmed on the five of them in Wembley Stadium, Niall feels like it might not be the end of the world afterall.


End file.
